A Walk In The Blue Ridge Mountains
by scousemuz1k
Summary: The next one in my Princeton universe. Tony plans a days walking with Ziva, hoping for peace, quiet and healing. Never going to happen.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: This almost never got posted – I just chucked a full mug of coffee all over my desk. Fortunately none of it fell on my base unit – and whee, my keyboard's still working. The whole room pongs of coffee, though.**

**Another one in my Princetonverse… can't leave it alone!**

A Walk in the Blue Ridge Mountains

by scousemuz1k

Tony had a regular technique for working at his computer while coping with an injury. His keyboard was pushed as far towards the back of his desk as it would go without falling off, and his entire forearms were resting on the surface in front of it. To a point it worked; but there was still a problem. He was deskbound, and would be until Ducky was happy with his twice-broken ribs.

"_They were not even healed before you damaged them again, Anthony. I'm afraid I shall have to insist that you err on the side of caution this time. I won't hear of you going into the field until I'm completely happy with the x-rays."_

Which meant, of course, not only continually having to fight the feeling of being cramped and hemmed in, but also the dreaded cold cases.

No matter, he'd still rather be here than moping at home, but this gave rise to the problem; trying to conceal from Gibbs how much the arm hurt, without taking the painkillers. Every so often, he'd pretend to drop something on the floor, or need something from the bottom drawer on the left of his desk, and he'd bend right down, hoping that Gibbs couldn't see the hand going into the sling to furtively rub and massage the healing bullet wound. But even the least disorientating of painkillers interfered with the clarity of his thought processes, and he needed that clarity, because he was good at making random connections, and that was his best weapon in cold case work.

But you'd _still_ rather be here… He stole a covert glance at McGee, also nose deep in cold cases, as they waited for something to happen. He appeared to have recovered from the emotional roller-coaster they'd both found themselves riding not so long ago, and Tony was glad. Mari had shown him her new ring, six small, delicate brilliant cut diamonds arranged in a flower shape around a sapphire the colour of an alpine gentian, and she'd smiled as she said, "There's no way I'd have let him sell the Porsche." Tony smiled a little as he remembered. With a girl like that beside him, a man could heal from just about anything.

He stared unseeing at the file in front of him, sinking deeper into introspection without even noticing. He didn't blame Tim; he hadn't then and he didn't now. Like he'd said, he himself could have put things a bit less bluntly. But McGee now knew how it felt to be a little crazy, and he wouldn't react that way again. Like an agent… both he and Abby had told Tony about that, and with Mari spending four days a week in New York City, and no immediate plans for a wedding, the SFA knew that Tim was adjusting slowly and wisely to his new status. The wedding would come soon enough, he thought with another brief grin.

No, he didn't blame McGee, so why was it still on his mind? He didn't blame Gill Cooper, either, although what she had said at the time had cut him so much deeper than Tim's impulsive anger; her tearful, fraught apologies had made him the more anxious to comfort her, and he hadn't given a moment's though to his own feelings at the time. So again, why was he so awash with self-pity about it now?

Maybe it was just physical… he felt bad emotionally because he'd sustained one lot of damage then another… he wasn't as young as he used to be… don't go there… Perhaps it was the double whammy – injured, and having two people he cared about mad at him at the same time? Was he _really_ trying to say he'd never had two people mad at him at the same time, before?

No, not friends, not when he felt physically below par – and then getting hurt again; who else did he know who could do that? He'd tried to look out for McGee; he'd tried to look out for Gill… nobody had looked out for him… and the reason for that was… go on… there was only one person he hoped would do that, and she hadn't, so everyone else's efforts had been met with the DiNozzo grin, and the 'I'm fine' that they'd probably predicted. So if he was going to be like that, he was simply getting what he deserved. He wasn't aware that he'd groaned aloud, until he found Gibbs sitting on the corner of his desk. He couldn't remember him arriving.

"You taken any painkillers, DiNozzo?" The question was mild enough.

"No, Boss… you know I won't unless I've got to… they fog up my thinking. You know that too."

Gibbs was still worryingly reasonable. "Well, yeah… but is there any reason you've _got_ to be thinking right now?"

"I gotta – " he indicated the files and his voice trailed off ruefully as he knew what the Boss would say.

"They're cold, DiNozzo. They were cold yesterday and they'll be cold tomorrow." Tony kept his mouth shut. Gibbs was trying to look out for him, and he'd just been lamenting the consequences of not allowing him to. The Boss looked at him thoughtfully. "OK, you're better off here where I can keep an eye on you, I'll grant you that," he said. Tony still sat with that rueful look on his face. "But since you're here, try listening to me."

He leaned into Tony's personal space. "Take the damn painkillers, and go and sleep for an hour. Then go for a walk, no, not on a treadmill – you stay out of the gym or Ducky'll kill me, let alone you. You're not to even jog and jar those ribs. Get some fresh air – _what_?" A lightbulb had lit over Tony's head so clearly it made Gibbs blink.

"You've reminded me of something, Boss. I promised myself a day walking in the Blue Ridge Mountains."

"I thought Ducky told you, you weren't to drive."

"Well, yeah…" 

"I will drive you, Tony." Ziva's clear voice told them that she'd been listening. Well, nobody had exactly told her not to. "Do you not remember? The last time you spoke of it, you asked me if I had ever been there. I said I would go with you"

"You'll come with me? This weekend?"

"I would like to."

"That's settled, then," Gibbs said. "Now take the pills."

When he got down to the lab, the futon was already laid out for him, and Abby greeted him in a whisper. He smiled inside… Abby would look out for him whether he liked it or not. Then he felt guilty. She only could if he came down to see her, and he'd not done much of that.

"Tony! I've missed you…"

"Oh, don't, Abbs… I feel guilty enough already."

"Well, you should come down and see me more often…"

"I know… I just sit down at my desk and then don't have the will to move."

She looked at him penetratingly. "Then you need to sleep more often. Down!"

"Woof!" he said obligingly, and felt the black plush throwover covering him before his head had even touched the pillow. He felt Bert tucked in with him, and squeezed a vulgar thank you from him. He heard the door to the office being closed, and Abby's music starting up again, but very quietly.

Tony burrowed his face down into the pillow, and tried to clear his mind. This was always the problem… his mind simply wouldn't clear, and now he'd taken the painkillers, it wouldn't _be_ clear either, but it wouldn't stop. So… think about the walk…

A few years ago, anyone hearing that he was going walking with a beautiful girl would have said, 'Walking, hmm? That's a new word for it.' These days the old DiNozzo felt a million miles away. He still teased, he still kept up the sexually charged banter, but it was expected of him, and heaven forbid that Anthony DiNozzo didn't live up to expectations. Besides, if he told her the truth – well hell, he had told her the truth in that room in Somalia, but it hadn't seemed to register; probably just as well – if he told her the truth it wouldn't get him anywhere, it'd leave him vulnerable and he was getting too old for that sort of thing. He'd had enough rejection – _enough of the self-pity, DiNozzo!_

Think about the walk. If he set himself the unchangeable limit that he could _not_ talk about him and her – them – it could be a lovely day. A healing day…

They could breathe fresh air, talk about all sorts of interesting things, find out more about each other in a general, friendly sort of way, walk in companionable silence, look at stunning scenery, he could tell her about the history of the area and why the mountains were blue, maybe picnic by a lake, just spend quality time as friends, the stream of consciousness was up and running now, and DiNozzo are you_ sure _this is a good idea?

Well, he had to make it one, or not go at all, and he'd spent six years being a friend and partner, and how was now any different? Maybe it was his own fault. Maybe she'd cared for him once and given up waiting for _him_ to open up about it. He could remember times… He didn't want to think about it, why wouldn't his mind stop?

The dull ache in his ribs and the stronger one in his damaged arm began to fade as the painkillers did what they were supposed to do – why did they always do the brain-addling bit first? He squeezed Bert, who trumped obligingly, and counted deep breaths, and after a while he was glad to feel the fuzziness round the edges of his mind that meant sleep was coming; if it was dreamless he'd be fine…

It was less than an hour before Gibbs came down to the lab. "How's he been, Abbs?"

"He hasn't moved. I think he needed the sleep." She paused suspiciously. "You've not come down to wake him have you?"

"Well, yeah, Abbs. H won't thank me for _not _waking him. We've got a case. Female marine lieutenant, seems to have taken a knife to her best friend. I need him on the case even if he can't be in the field. Send him up when you've got him on his feet, huh?"

"Gibbs - !!!" He was already disappearing.

Less than two minutes later, a tousled but alert DiNozzo hurried into the bull pen, to be filled in by the other members of the team on what they knew so far, as they geared up to go. As Ziva finished giving her information, she said brightly, "Oh, by the way, Tony, Gill Cooper rang."

"Oh, right. I'll call her back as soon as I can."

"No, she rang _me_… she wanted to know the name of the shop that I went to with Marieke van Hoorn –"

"Oh, yeah… to buy that amazing dress… the one that made her look like an angel."

"That is right. Anne-Marie wondered if they have wedding dresses –" a snort from Gibbs told her to get a move on. "Whatever – I told her about our trip to the mountains, and she said it sounded lovely. She was wondering where to go with her _new friend _at the weekend, so I said why did they not come along. I am very interested to know about this friend, I am sure you are?" She went off towards the elevator smiling broadly; Tony stood looking after her, thunderstruck.

Gibbs looked back at him over the top of her head, hesitated, then walked back a few paces towards him. "Why don't you work downstairs with Abby?" he suggested quietly. Tony nodded his thanks, it was all he could do. He sat down at his desk and automatically began pulling together what the other three team members had told him, to decide what to do next.

It was a perfectly reasonable thing for Ziva to do, he told himself. Since he'd never told her what he was thinking, how would she know? Why would she even consider that spending time with _her_ was the important thing? And knowing how nosy he was, she'd assume he'd be beside himself to find out about this friend. She thinks she's done the right thing, he told himself. But it made one thing clear; the pleasure of spending time alone with him hadn't entered Ziva's head. No reason why it should. He sucked it up and got on with the case.

McGee let Ziva call shotgun without putting up any argument. He sat in the back and thought. When he'd heard Ziva making her original offer, he'd thought none of my business, but good idea. Those two have so many issues… a bit of quality time together can't do anything but good. When he'd heard her talking to Gill and scuppering her own arrangement, and then seen the look on Tony's face, he'd thought Bad Idea. He could only imagine the debilitating effect of not being over one injury before collecting another; he remembered how bad _he_'d felt during the time he'd been at loggerheads with Tony, and recalled too the words of that cold little note he'd deleted from his friend's mail-box. He didn't think Tony needed much company for the coming weekend; he needed head-space, and Ziva.

Well, it was clear that he wasn't going to get either, and Tim wondered if he'd need support instead? Or was introducing more people into the mix even worse? O-kay… he decided. He wondered if Mari had ever been to the Blue Ridge Mountains… he'd find out where Tony and the others were going, and turn up. If he wasn't needed, there were plenty of places they could go. Mari, he had no doubt, would understand. She would tell him that it would be better than _not_ turning up and spending the whole weekend wondering if he should have done.

**AN: Mean, I know: if you haven't read the previous two you won't make a lot of sense of this. Author's ego, see… how to make people read your stuff…**


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: Just made a coffee before reading through… I must NOT ceremonially anoint my keyboard before posting.**

A Walk in the Blue Ridge Mountains

by scousemuz1k

Chapter 2

It was about a hundred and seventy miles down to Roanoke, which seemed to be the place where so many people liked to begin their explorations of the mountains; Tony thought it was probably too much time to spend in a car at both ends of a day, and his plan was simply to drive until the first blue shadows appeared, take the next decent right turn they found, head towards them, and see where they ended up.

He'd packed appetising food and drink, and the minimum of first-aid and survival stuff; not that he was thinking of doing anything at all strenuous, but it was silly to be unprepared. He tested his back-pack, and decided it was light enough not to cause discomfort, especially once the food was inside _them_. He'd chosen it for its good design many years ago now, and knew it was comfortable, although he put a chunk of old bath sponge into one of the side pockets to pad over the healed shoulder wound if it became necessary. He added a lightweight waterproof, although the weather forecast was perfect, and laced up his walking boots. Perfect timing; he heard the uniquely English beep of Ziva's car horn as he tied the last knot, and he hefted the pack and stepped outside.

She had got out of the car, and greeted him with a smile as she went round to open the trunk. He put his pack in beside hers, which wasn't much smaller than his, and unlike his black one, was the colour of desert cammo. He chuckled, and Ziva raised an eyebrow. "It is just a pack, Tony."

"I know… I was just wondering if it was left over from your days in the Israeli army."

Her face suggested he'd said the wrong thing, as she marched back round to the driver's door. Good start, DiNozzo. Nice work. He dropped into the passenger seat and belted up, and waited until they were on their way before he asked.

"What did I say, Zi?"

"Nothing. Why do you ask?"

"It didn't _seem _like nothing… Hey, if it's tactless to speak about your homeland, I mean, you must miss it… I won't do it. Just tell me."

She sighed. "The subject will come up from time to time. I cannot avoid it. I have made my choice, have I not. But no, the pack is one I bought over here. From an _American_ army surplus store." She smiled, and he realised her attempt at levity was her way of apologising for the prickliness. He wondered what had made her start the day spiky, but decided not to ask. He was casting around for something harmless to talk about, when Ziva got there first.

"I have seen photographs," she said thoughtfully, "And the mountains really do look blue. Is it a trick of the light?"

Ah, Tony thought. Nice choice. "Apparently it's the isoprene that does it." 

"Isoprene? I thought that was rubber?"

"That's right. It comes from plants – a musician friend once told me that it's in the rosin you put on a violin bow, and it's used to make rubber. Apparently, all those trees release it into the atmosphere – but don't ask me why that makes the haze blue – I only know it does. Wonderful to look at, though." He explained his idea of finding a completely random destination to suit them, and Ziva agreed that this was an excellent way of doing things.

"I am looking forward to it."

They arrived at Gillian's house not long afterwards, and she came out to greet them, accompanied by a tall, good-looking man of about her own age. She seemed glowing, and almost girlish, as she greeted them happily, and introduced them to her friend. "This is Alistair," she said excitedly. "Dr. Alistair McLennan. He's a grief counsellor at Bethesda, that's how we met."

Ziva shook his hand, then Tony, and each man was aware of a brief moment of sizing up the other, then it was gone. "Pleased to meet you, Alistair." Tony said easily, wondering why it was necessary – no, he _knew_ why it was necessary to take notice of this man. He was kind of Gill's unofficial protector… well, he and Nadia, and he took his duties seriously. Alistair was looking at Gill with a devoted expression, and Tony was pleased for her. He assumed that he was getting the treatment because although he was seven years younger than Gill, he'd known her before the doctor did, and might be regarded as competition.

As they took the back-packs from Ziva's Mini, the doctor raised an eyebrow. "They look fairly serious kit," he said in what sounded like alarm. "Sweetheart, I thought we were going for a picnic?" Was Tony imagining it, or was there a faint note of annoyance there? He hastened to reassure him.

"We haven't any plans for anything strenuous," he said soothingly. "I'm only just out of hospital a few days." _Well, ten actually, six of them back at my desk, and I am actually desperate for a bit of exercise._ He lifted his pack into the back of Gill's big GMC, and observed the stylish wicker hamper and the wine carrier already in there. He took great care not to drop his pack on it, and so did Ziva, although she looked at Tony with raised eyebrows. Alistair looked slightly mollified, although he still addressed his next remark to Gill rather than answering Tony.

"I'm worried that walking too far would shake up the champagne," he said placatingly, and Gill giggled with pleasure. "I guess it won't do it any harm. I just wanted you to enjoy it, Gilly." Again, the two agents pulled faces at each other. "Shall I drive? I don't want you to get tired."

The journey was a little strange; Tony had wanted time with Ziva; and they might as well have been alone in the back of the big car, as the two potential lovebirds only had eyes for each other. Any time that Gillian remembered they were there, and made the effort to bring them into the conversation, before long, Alistair drew her attention back. He seemed so enamoured of her that he simply didn't want to share. Ain't love wonderful, Tony thought wryly. He and Ziva made light conversation, or sat occupied by their own thoughts.

They appeared to be heading for Roanoke after all, although nobody had included the NCIS agents in the decision-making; Ziva was beginning to wish that she hadn't invited Gill along. They'd met the new man in her life, and that was all you could say. The day was supposed to have been Tony's, and it had been hijacked by these two who only had eyes for each other.

She sighed softly; she had actually wanted to do something nice for Tony, remembering the whole succession of not-nice things that had happened to him recently. Maybe they could ditch the lovebirds… or putting it more kindly, go their separate ways and meet up again later. The big man beside her had caught the sigh; he looked at her with a worried expression, and raised eyebrows that silently asked her what was wrong.

She shook her head ruefully, and whispered softly, "It seems your first likely right turn has disappeared." She need not have whispered, the two in the front weren't listening.

"Don't worry," Tony reassured her. "It's nice to see Gill happy. OK, the trails will be a little more well worn… maybe a few more people about… but we'll still walk in the mountains, see the blue… smell the fresh air… look!" He pointed out to the right, and the blue shadows were clear in the distance, a long, beautiful , sinuous line. Ziva smiled. She really should have noted more often, she thought, how good he was at turning aside other peoples' fears and concerns, and how used he was to putting aside his own feelings in order to do it.

She sighed again; but took care to suppress it. The effort made her yawn, to her surprise. Riding in the back of a vehicle sometimes did make her feel sleepy, she knew; a left-over from having to snatch sleep while travelling in secret or difficult circumstances for Mossad. But it was still morning, and she had slept well… or had she?

Thinking about it, maybe not. She recalled her minor hissy fit earlier on. It must have come from somewhere. Tony had caught the yawn, and wiggled his shoulder invitingly at her. She put her head against it at once, and closed her eyes. No, she had _not_ slept well… she had lain awake half the night thinking about precisely _this_… being this close to Tony, without Gibbs, or duty, or a case, or for that matter a damn hospital room to get in the way of simply thinking about _him_. It came down to what it always came down to… she always felt safer when there _was _something else to think about. Safer? Was Tony dangerous? Without a doubt.

When that sack had been torn from her head in that cell in Somalia, and she somehow had not been surprised at the sight that had greeted her… she saw it now… The messed hair, the sheen of sweat that spoke of something noxious running through his system, the bruises, and the bright light surrounding him from the window behind him, making him shine like some sort of wild seraph, and most of all those unafraid eyes… with something in them that she couldn't face…

Now here she was, lying on his shoulder, hoping that he was not aware of her quickened breathing and tumbling thoughts. If she pulled away he would know something was wrong; or be hurt that she rejected him as a human pillow. And she had chosen to be here… because however dangerous it was, she wanted to be this close to him. And just as in Somalia, she couldn't face why. It was not in her nature to give her heart… her inner being… to anyone. She had not given it to Michael… She would never allow herself to be destroyed by such a gift, that could be turned back against her…

_Ziva, do you truly believe that I would do that?_

_Twice, in as many months, you have almost died. Have you forgotten that not a year ago __**I**__ nearly got you killed myself?_

_We've done that one. It's gone. We're still here._

_No! I will not do this. I will not feel…_

She shut out the imaginary conversation, and began to recite psalms, first in Hebrew then in French, then in Russian, a distraction technique she had learned as a teenage trainee Mossad officer, and then slept. Tony looked at her, couldn't take it, closed his eyes and put his cheek against her hair. _You kill me, David…_

He was roused by the car coming to a halt, but since he didn't know whether it was their destination, wherever that was, or a traffic signal or whatever, he didn't open his eyes. That was, until he heard Gillian say in pleased surprise, "Alistair, look who's here!"

Alistair's reaction wasn't exactly thrilled. He said in a surprised, slightly plaintive voice, "What – why – what are they doing here?" Tony opened his eyes and focussed on where Gill was pointing; they had come to a halt in the parking lot of a service area beside some woods, a ranger station with an information centre, and a diner and gift shop. There were some picnic tables, the signposted beginnings of a couple of trails, and a small scenic lake. It was nevertheless exactly the sort of place Tony wouldn't have chosen. Josh and Anne-Marie were sitting on the hood of Josh's compact, waving happily. Tony watched Gill's would be swain getting his face under control, and thought that he wasn't the only one who'd seen his plans go through the wood chipper. Know how you feel, chum.

The doctor put on a brave face, and greeted Gill's son and his fiancée pleasantly enough. It really wasn't possible to dislike the youngsters, even if they represented a fairly large spanner in the machinery of a man's wooing. Tony took over again. He eased himself out from under Ziva, jumped out of the car and hurried to meet his young friends.

"Tony! Hey, how are you? How's your arm?"

"Good, Josh, pretty good. Hi, Anni!" He kissed Anne-Marie's cheek and hugged them both. "So, what _are_ you two doing here?"

He was certain as soon as Josh answered, face wide open and voice innocent, that he wasn't being told the whole truth. "Well, we knew that you and Ziva were coming down here with Mom and Alistair… it seemed like a good idea for a day out." Anne-Marie stood beside him smiling brightly, and the vibes Tony was catching were not good. His first thought was that maybe the two had had an argument, but that didn't seem to be it…

A moment later things became a little clearer, as Gill tried to conceal a sharp intake of breath. Tony looked where Gill was looking, and saw Claire coming up the path from the information centre, hand in hand with a fair haired young man of about her own age. Suddenly the Blue Ridge Mountains seemed very crowded to the man who'd been hoping to get away from it all.

Josh appeared to brace himself as he said cheerfully, "Claire and Jack wanted to come as well."

The teenagers walked up, and Claire said, "Hi, Mom…Alistair."

The young man said, "Morning, Miz Cooper, Doctor…" and Ziva, standing by the car she'd just climbed out of, thought she could have sliced the atmosphere with one of her paper clips.

Gill found her voice. Glancing anxiously at the doctor, she said softly, "Hello, darling… hello, Jack, what made you two decide to come?"

Ziva thought that the problem must be that Gill didn't like Claire's boyfriend, although he looked a nice enough young man; Tony, trying to watch everybody at once, felt his gut lurch. The good doctor was looking at Claire with a frighteningly venomous expression, which she returned, until she turned away from him. "Josh and Anni wanted to see how Tony was," she told her mother matter-of-factly. "So did I. Jack didn't mind coming too."

Dr. McLennan felt Tony's gaze and rearranged his features instantly. "That's really nice," he said, and give him his due, he managed to sound as if he meant it. "Isn't it, sweetheart. We can make the picnic stretch, and have a lovely day."

"We've got our own," Claire said, only just the right side of polite. Tony cringed inside.

"Claire's right," Josh said calmingly, "We've brought plenty of food ourselves. Were you planning to picnic here, or walk one of the trails for a while first?" Everyone spoke at once.

"I thought we could find a nice spot by the lake," Alistair said.

"I think Tony was hoping to get a bit of exercise," Ziva said, valiantly trying to stand up for him and at the same time return her feelings to where they'd been before her introspections on his shoulder in the car.

"I want to walk," Claire demanded.

"I'll do whatever you do," Jack said loyally.

"We don't all have to do the same thing," Anne-Marie tried to inject some sanity into the situation.

"I don't think you youngsters should go off by yourselves…" Gill said anxiously.

Tony felt like whistling through his teeth. "Short walk before lunch," he said firmly. "Once round the lake. Last one back's a sissy."

He raised an eyebrow at Ziva, who nodded back. They set off towards the lakeside path, followed with varying degrees of enthusiasm by the others.

At first Tony and Ziva walked together, comparing notes on what they'd seen. "I wish I had not mentioned this to anybody," she told him. "I do not think this is what you had hoped for."

Tony shrugged gently. "There'll be other times… what d'you think's going on?"

"I thought at first it was the boyfriend," Ziva said.

"Which one?"

"What – ah! The doctor… yes, he puts a good front on, no?"

"I think you mean face, and yes, you feel that too?"

"I do, and I think that Gillian is too… too careful… too…" 

"Too anxious about his opinion?" Tony finished helpfully. As Ziva nodded, he was about to go on, when Claire came running up the path behind them laughing, chased by Jack who was making what he fondly imagined were grizzly noises. She almost cannoned into Tony, but managed to stumble to a halt just in time.

"I'm sorry, Tony… I almost forgot about your ribs!"

"Hey… a scrawny little thing like you couldn't have hurt the DiNozzo ribs… how are ya, kidlet?"

"Oh, I'm fine, Tony." He saw that Jack had tactfully fallen back and engaged Ziva in conversation, and waited, then realised the fifteen year old didn't know how to say whatever was clearly on her mind.

"Are you still having the nightmares?"

"No. Well… not those nightmares."

Tony was very gentle. "What, then?"

"It's not that I don't want Mom to have a boyfriend, honestly it's not…"

"Who said it was?"

"Mom. Cuz that's what he said to her, and she said it to me. I don't mind her having a boyfriend." It came pouring out. "Dad always said she shouldn't stay alone if anything happened to him. And I think all the things that happened… she'd have been better if she'd had a man to share it with… but not _him_!" She looked up at the tall man whose eyes were full of concern. "Not him…" Her voice dropped to a whisper. "He hates me. And I hate him."

**AN: It was going to be a nice feelgood story. The plot warthogs won't let me do feelgood.**


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: Someone asked if it wasn't awkward saying Anne-Marie and Mari all the time. I see Mari as being pronounced ****Mah****-ri, in case anyone's wondering.**

A Walk in the Blue Ridge Mountains

by scousemuz1k

Chapter 3

Claire looked defiantly up at Tony, as if daring him to argue about it. He put his head on one side and pursed his lips thoughtfully. "O-kay, Cooplet… you're going to have to explain that, don't you think?"

"Don't grin at me like that, Tony!" Claire's voice shook a little. "Like I'm some hysterical adolescent who doesn't know what she's talking about!"

Tony went on smiling. "You've come up ahead to talk about it," he said. "So I'm thinking you don't want your Mom to know what we're talking about. So don't look so earnest. Shall I show you my scar?" He lifted his left arm out of its sling, and began to push back the tubular bandage he wore on his forearm to protect the stitches from knocks. Claire squeaked, but she looked at the injury anyway.

"Now," Tony said, "That's got a suitably impressed look on your face… so, tell me, then."

"It's only little things," Claire said earnestly. "Like, expressions I've seen on his face when he knows Mom's not looking. He switches off the charm, and looks… calculating. He turns it back on again as soon as Mom comes back in the room, or turns towards him… Like, like… "

"Come on, li'l Coop, tell Tony…" his whole body language suggested to anyone back down the path that he was sharing a joke with his young friend, but his eyes held her up through the struggle.

"He's not stayed the night yet… but the other day I was coming out of my room, and he was looking through Mom's bedroom door at her bed, as if he were planning… but Tony, it wasn't a romantic look… I could have understood that, it was… a _smirk_; he looked self-satisfied. It gave me a nasty feeling in my stomach."

She bit her lip. "He saw me looking – well, I was glaring at him, and he pasted on a smile – I pushed past him before he could say anything – now sometimes I catch him looking at me like he'd like to throttle me. He likes being in control… he's not happy when Josh is around because Mom takes notice of him, and anything that Mom or I suggest, he manages to make the opposite happen; and he's so sweet about it Mom doesn't even notice."

Tony was aware that the others walking behind were closer now, he could hear their voices although he couldn't make out the words. "OK," he said. He raised his voice. "Aw, you're a scrawny little thing," he said loudly. "You'll never catch me. Bet you can't." He set off at a run, and the teenager, quick to understand what he was doing, scampered after him, chestnut hair, the same colour as her brothers, bouncing round her head, long, skinny, tanned legs flying.

"I am _not_ scrawny!" she yelled. When they were far enough ahead again, Tony grabbed the trunk of a sapling and swung round it, coming back to face her.

As he raised his eyebrows in question, she began again. "If I tell Mom I want to do something he tries to persuade her not to let me… like I said I was going to go over to Ginny's, and he started on as if I wasn't even in the room, about how it was better for youngsters to stay home and study on weeknights. I told Mom I didn't take orders from him, and went. When I got back he'd gone, but Mom sat me down and started giving me _the talk_, very gently, about how she understood it was difficult for me to adjust… as if she's going to _marry _him. He's only been around three weeks! I told her she didn't need to be saying this, I've never been against her finding someone else, just not him. I told her he was phoney, and she got upset. I went to my room and closed the door, and phoned Josh. He and Anni agreed to come down this weekend because they could see I needed to talk to them" 

"What does he think?"

"He's not seen as much of him as I have, and he warned me that it _could_ just be a clash of personalities, until I told him what I haven't told Mom yet, cuz I don't think she'd believe me."

Tony's eyes widened, and he tensed. He couldn't help his mind jumping to the most obvious conclusion – if it were that he'd rip the man's liver out. Claire hurried to reassure him. "No, he's not interested in me. Josh thought that, too. No, he began by treating me like a sweet little girl – of about ten," she added with teen contempt.

"Then when he found out he couldn't charm me, he started just pretending I didn't exist, or getting the odd dig in to Mom. But one morning, Mom had gone over to see Nadia about something, and he arrived while she was gone. I was out in the back yard shooting baskets, and I saw him in the study. There's no need for him to go in there… He didn't notice me. He was looking through the filing cabinet where Mom keeps all the financial stuff."

Tony pursed his lips again, relieved that he'd not been looking back and the look on his face wouldn't have been seen by those behind. He worked on the tension that he'd momentarily displayed in spite of his best efforts, and eased his body back into relaxed mode. "Don't like the sound of that," he said. Out on the lake, two ducks began to fight. Mrs. Donald was very mad about something, and was waling all hell out of Mr. Donald. Tony pointed, and they watched for a moment, but kept walking. "What happened? Did he see you?"

"No. I wasn't sure which drawer holds which, but I went back and looked later, the one he had open at the time has bank statements, and insurance policies."

"Ah."

That one flat word almost made Claire crumple; Tony saw it, thought _damn!_ and went back to joking. "Come on, MiniCooper… we'll fix this – smile for your old Uncle Tony!" He thought for a moment. "I've never been nosy about your Mom and money, Claire… I know the Marines look after their own, and I know they helped put Josh through Princeton. But if your Dad took out any sort of decent insurance, in case…"

"In case what happened, happened," Claire agreed sadly. "I looked. Mom's worth enough to interest any bilkoing bastard –" she stopped, wide eyed with shock at what she'd said. Tony simply grinned. "She's been through enough… more than anything I don't want her hurt, yet again!"

Tony kept the huge grin on his face, as he looked back down the path to see where the others were; he flicked an approving look at Ziva and Jack; they were dawdling so the others couldn't get past them. "What did Josh say when you told him?"

"He said not to give away anything to alert Alistair, and we'd talk to you. You're rubbing off on him, Tony!"

"So are you, Princess."

She giggled, and then the mischievous smile she'd worn for a moment faded. "So you don't think I'm imagining it? Has my family suddenly become a huge trouble magnet?"

"Gut feeling? I disliked him on sight, couldn't figure why. I think Ziva did too. Josh is right. Don't do anything… but don't worry, either." He went Godfather for a moment. "_Ho alcuni amici molto buoni, tesora_…we're going to find out a few things."

Claire frowned thoughtfully. "I got friends… and very good…" She giggled again. "I think I got the 'tesora' bit too… but alcoo- whatever it was…"

"Alcuni. Some. I have some _verrry_ good friendsa. I meant it – don't wo-"

He was interrupted by an excited shout from Anne-Marie behind them.

"Mari! Tim!" Tony's attention had been so much on Claire that he hadn't noticed his friends coming from the other direction; he assumed they'd started to walk round the lake the other way. Claire whooped and ran to meet her friend; the wedding date hadn't been set yet, but Claire, certain of being Anni's bridesmaid come June, was into all things wedding, and still hoping to land the job for Mari. Anyway, she hadn't seen the ring yet.

Tony was glad of the distraction for her, and since the mountains were already crowded, he wasn't upset to see McGee as well. Now if he'd been alone with Ziva… Tim looked a little embarrassed, and the SFA wondered why. What _was_ McGee doing here anyway? He grinned.

"Hey, McMountain Man –" he saw Marianne roll her eyes good-naturedly at the latest nickname – "Have you got Abby and the Boss in that back pack? Ducky, maybe?"

Mari went off to talk to the girls, and Tim stepped up close enough to lower his voice a bit. "No, Tony, I know the place is getting a bit crowded, but apart from the food there's just a laptop. I was tracking you with it. Gill's car's still got the tracker I put on it before we went to Princeton for the Graduation." Tony's eyebrows went up, and Tim forestalled the next question. "Why? I went sappy on you."

"You _did_?"

Tim explained the thinking that had brought him here. "When I asked Mari what she thought, she said that Josh and Anni were intending to come, and maybe Claire, I was even more convinced… and then she implied that something was up with Claire…" 

"Don't look at her, McGee," his friend whispered urgently.

"'S all right, I'm not. Something _is_ up, then… The absolute truth – my gut. I thought I _should_ come."

Tony was silent for a moment, touched, not that he'd admit it, no problem, McGee would _know_; his eyes said thanks even while his mouth teased. "Yay… McSherlock! Your gut was right. You've turned up in the middle of a major mystery. Don't look at him either, but has Mari said anything about Gill's new boyfriend?"

"Only in passing… Anne-Marie mentioned him one time, but nothing much." By now, Tim had turned, and was retracing his steps as the others continued their walk. They were more than three-quarters of the way round, and both agents stomachs suddenly growled. "Hey… our guts…they agree," Tim said.

Tony nodded. "Competing on volume?" He added thoughtfully. "I think the plan's to eat lunch here – I could have found a nicer spot than next to a diner… but listen… when we're all done eating, you and I clear up, OK? We keep an eye on which cup he drinks from, his food wrappers…"

"Finger prints and DNA even. You got any evidence bags on you?"

"Never leave home without them. You, McScout?"

"Of course. And gloves. You think this guy isn't who he says he is?"

"Claire doesn't. And you're not the only one whose gut's on fine form today."

"O-kay… you won't want him to know he's being investigated?"

Tony's grin was predatory. "If he's a crook, I want to end the day by arresting him, not having him scarper."

"It'll make up a bit for having your chill-out day hi-jacked."

"Just a bit. What's on your mind?"

"Chain of evidence. We sit as far away from the litter bins as possible, then after lunch Mari and I take the trash, go and dump it, subtly extracting what we need, then we disappear for a while. You say something DiNozzo about why we've vanished, Ziva tells you off, Mari and I hide behind the Ranger Station, photograph any visible finger prints, send to Abby."

"Nice plan, McDevious. You could do one more thing, if you fancy risking your life."

Sigh. "Go on."

"Call Gibbs. Or ask Mari to do it, that's safer, isn't it? Ask him to go to Gill's house. He can pick the lock, or Nadia can let him in... Ask him to finger-print the cabinet in the study. Claire says he's been snooping in it. Then Abs can see if there are any to match what we very sneakily and skilfully obtain."

"Sounds good. He could ask if Nadia's noticed anything, just to build up information."

At that moment Ziva came up. The group was bunching up again as they got near to the picnic area, and she pitched her voice at a level that anyone could hear. "Are you two talking shop? I thought we came out here to forget work? If you're still complaining about the dry-cleaning bill from the Bronowski case…" Jack had explained to her very quietly that Claire had needed to talk to Tony, (and then spent the rest of the walk mesmerised by this kick-ass woman who carried a Sig,) and she wanted to know what was going on.

Tony draped his arm casually round her shoulders, and put his lips close to her ear. He knew he'd regret the nearness, smelling her light perfume and feeling the heat of her skin, but it was the only way he could think of to pass on the information.

"Some time during lunch," he whispered, "Suggest to Claire that she goes with you to feed the ducks, and ask her to tell you what she told me. Remind her not to look at him; from what she says, the good doctor could be a real bad'n."

Ziva was both very sorry, and utterly relieved when his arm, and more especially his lips were removed from her vicinity. Just as she had done lying against his shoulder in the car, she felt safe with his big, solid body touching hers, and his arm around her. But his breath on her ear, his lips tickling at the corner of her jaw, and his soft, pleasant voice, sensuous as if he were whispering endearments… it was unjust that he could have such an effect on her with so little effort.

He saw her discomfiture, and resolutely refused to tease her about it. He remembered what he'd vowed when she'd offered to come with him, and kept to his vow. There was no other way to handle it.

She didn't sit next to him while they picnicked, he sighed inside, but he wasn't surprised. He watched her when he got the chance – she had the appetite of a horse, and stayed tiny, delicate and slim. He wondered how she did it, but most of the time, he was covertly observing Gill and Alistair. The doctor only seemed to have eyes for Gillian, and once again did the same trick he'd done in the car; if anyone spoke to her, especially Josh, he'd very soon pull her attention back to him.

Josh looked unhappily over at Tony, who nodded back slightly. The younger man relaxed a little, knowing that the agent was on the case.

When Ziva suggested to Claire that they feed the leftovers to the many different waterfowl, both of the watching agents observed what the young girl had told Tony of. Alistair took his attention away from Gillian long enough to say "Aren't you going to help your mother with the clearing up, Claire?"

The teenager's eyes flashed, and her chin went up; her mother looked unhappy, but before she could defend her daughter Tim said smoothly, "The ladies made a wonderful meal; the gents will clear it up." He produced one of the grocery bags that the food had travelled in, inside it an open evidence bag was concealed. In a matter of minutes, he and Tony had everything they needed.

"Give me that stuff, Tony, Mari and I'll take it to the bins."

Tony looked from one to the other, and his smile broadened into a leer. "Sure, McGee," he said, inflecting as much nudge nudge into his tone as he could, and the two grinned and moved off. The tall agent looked across to where Jack, Ziva and Claire were throwing everything from bagels to chocolate cake to the water birds. There was another fight going on, Tony wondered if it was the same happy couple, and let his thoughts drift on the subject.

Claire and Jack… maybe the first time either of them had ever been part of one. Good luck to them, nice kids that they were… Two engaged couples, four people he thought the world of. He reflected on how his friendship with Tim had been stretched… strengthened… solidified; nice alliteration, DiNozzo, maybe you should write a best seller about two young computer geniuses who fell in love and faced mad scientists.

A couple who he was pretty sure shouldn't be one, and however arrogant it sounded, if he got proof of that, he was going to do something about it… And a couple who _weren't _a couple… who should be… who probably never would… which was where all this musing had been taking him… you've been over this, DiNozzo – over and over for four years. Enough, already.

Two young women, both blondes, came down one of the trails on horseback. They saw him leaning on a picnic table, looked at each other, and smiled encouragingly at him. He gave them a polite smile, but his eyes were far away. He didn't know how long he lounged there, watching the lake, before Tim and Mari came back down the path. Tim stopped at his car to put his coat in the trunk, since it was a warm day; only Tony knew what else was going in there. The big agent, who Gibbs always said never missed things like that, caught very clearly the look of jealousy from Alistair when he realised that the Porsche belonged to the young agent, before it was expertly smoothed out.

"Abby just rang me," Tim said. "She wanted to know if we were having a good time. I told her she should have come…" Tony shook his head wryly, at the joke that only he understood. "She's gong to phone you," his friend went on. "She wants to tell you about Sister Rosita's latest exploit." Nice work, McGee. Forewarned. Less than a minute later, Tony's phone buzzed against his hip. Gibbs. He faced away from McLennan and Gill.

"DiNozzo… what are you up to?"

"Oh, Hi, Boss…I thought Mari had told you all about that stuff."

"Well, yeah. I'm on my way over there now, to do what you asked…"

"Oh, hey, Boss, thanks! It'll sure save me a lot of –"

"Shut up and listen."

"Shutting up, right away." Back in DC, Gibbs ground his teeth; the trouble magnet had found it yet again, and he was too far away….

"Tony –" Uh-oh, first name… "Tony, Dr. Alistair McLennan, grief counsellor at Bethesda, is a retired psychiatrist aged sixty-eight, who does the job on a voluntary basis, and is currently on his retirement cruise in the Greek Islands. I don't know who you've got there, but watch yourself, cuz it sure as hell isn't Dr. McLennan!"

**AN: Sorry, not much action… all coming soon…**


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: I've never been to the Blue Ridge Mountains (sigh), I don't know any of the trails, so I made up one that sounds plausible. There could even be one like it somewhere…**

A Walk in the Blue Ridge Mountains

by scousemuz1k

Chapter 4

"No kidding, Boss!"

Tony strode about, talking animatedly into his cell, and looking as if he were having a friendly chat. Any time he had anything important to say, he'd turn away, but not for long enough to appear secretive. His mind was racing; Claire had said phoney, and her instinct had been good. He told Gibbs so, and mentioned what the teenager had said about her mom's money.

"We could be talking fraud here, then? A con man?"

"Well, Boss, that'd be a good thing to suggest to Abby, wouldn't it? She'd appreciate knowing something like that."

At the other end of the connection Gibbs clenched his teeth again; he knew why DiNozzo was sounding like he hadn't a care in the world, but even bogus light-heartedness still rubbed him the wrong way. He didn't want to even think of his people not taking this seriously, for their own sakes.

"She's raising fingerprints from McGee' photos; she thinks she can get something viable. I'll suggest areas for her to begin searching when she's ready to start."

Tony's too cheerful voice burbled on. "That's brilliant, Boss. She's going to love that."

"DiNozzo!" Tony shut up and listened again. "Tony… are you carrying?"

"Aw, only my leg, Boss… "

"Your back up." Gibbs voice was flat. Never mind… he knew what Tony could do with what he called his 'pithering little toy Glock'.

"Yeah, Boss." He let out a daft laugh. "But McGee's got a bigger one… matter of fact, so has Ziva…"

"O-kay… I'm at Gills. Nadia's waiting for me." 

"Oh, great, Boss. Say hello for me? Let me know what she has to say?" He was talking to the dial tone. He laughed, although hell, the last thing he felt like doing was laughing. His mind raced; he had to alert his half-informed team without alerting the bad guy; who, his gut suggested, was something fairly unpleasant. In his experience, con men were not only good actors, but able to spot an act themselves. They were also without heart or conscience. He was going to have to be so careful…

This guy wasn't _that_ good, he reminded himself. He'd let his guard down and a girl not much more than a child had seen through him. And DiNozzo… aren't you the one who conned the master con-man? Remember Dad? You can do this.

Nevertheless, he had a bunch of unarmed, unaware civilians to protect; and although they'd already been in situations together that made Claire's remark about her family and trouble magnets fair comment; and hadn't been found wanting - they were still civilians. His responsibility. Oh, yes, and he was on desk duty.

Suddenly every fracture in every rib hurt, both bullet holes hurt, the completely healed over abrasions on the back of his shoulder hurt; sure it was psychological, and simply a reminder… but yeah, he got it. He wasn't physically up to this. And back in DC, he knew Gibbs was worrying… Tony silently reminded both the Boss and himself that he wasn't alone in this, and sighed bleakly, although it didn't get as far as his face. He put his phone away, and wandered back to where Tim and Mari were with Josh and Anne-Marie, who'd gone to sit with Gill and Alistair, or whoever he was.

"Was that the Boss?" Tim asked innocently. "He still bothered about the Bronowski case? Aren't you supposed to be off duty?"

"Oh, yeah. Looks like he's going to be on _my_ case all afternoon, and if not him, then Abby."

"No," Tim said. "Abby's more likely to be on _my_ case."

" Yeah… I'm tempted to switch my cell off."

"Rule 5," Tim said reprovingly.

"Which one's that?" Gill asked, and laughed when not only the two agents, but Mari too chorused "Never be unreachable."

Tim gave Tony a quick, understanding glance – without any prior planning, they'd established that their phones could be going off all afternoon.

The others wandered back from the lakeside, and Ziva asked, "Are we going to walk one of the trails? Which one did you have in mind?"

Tim looked at Tony with a slight frown. "I know I'll regret saying this… but you shouldn't go so far that you're too tired to get back again."

"Aw, McGee… you know how much I _hate _being mothered… almost as much as I hate admitting you're right." They both knew that whatever was ahead, to keep up the semblance of normality, they had to walk a trail. That was what they'd come for.

Jack said eagerly, "My Dad says there's one starts from here called the Chute… it's not very long, but it makes a curve round a cleft in the hill, and there's a bridge over a waterfall. He says it's a great place."

"That sounds perfect, doesn't it, Alistair," Gill said.

"Oh, shouldn't we just wait here until the others get back?"

Tony couldn't work out if the man was contrary, or bone idle, or both. Gill seemed on the point of acquiescing, and that was certainly not what Tony wanted, he needed the lovely Alistair to be where he could keep an eye on him. To his delight, Claire took over.

"Come on, Mom! What's the point of coming out here if all we get to see is a diner? Let's go and see the waterfall."

Josh took his mother's hand. "Come on, Mom," he said gently, pulling her to her feet, "We hardly see anything of you these days." Claire, beside him, nodded vehement agreement.

Tony, watching closely, saw two things; the look of annoyance and malice that crossed McLennan's face, before it was wiped away, and Gill's thoughtful, slightly guilty look. She nodded. "You're right," she sad softly, and there wasn't a thing her suitor could do about it. Tony cheered inside.

As the ten of them set off up the trail, the three agents went into action, although no-one would have known. Tim led the way with the map; Tony and Ziva brought up the rear. They wouldn't be seen as a threesome, huddled up discussing something – just in case What'sisname was sensitive to atmosphere, but each of them would be aware of the other two, and ready to make a move if the time came. They had a feeling it would.

The trail led gently upwards, through tall trees, and the incredible smell of sun-warmed pines wrapped round them. The rustle and crunch of fallen needles on the path neatly masked their voices as Tony filled Ziva in on what Gibbs had said. She frowned.

"I am as unsurprised as you were, Tony. I do not like the sound of this, from what you have said, or from what Claire told me. Con men are reckoned to be soft criminals; people who rely on their wits and charm." Tony thought of his father. "I have not always found this to be so."

"I've met a few bad ones in my time," Tony agreed. "I guess I'll feel better if - or when - Abby comes up with something. When we know what we're up against. But since we know he isn't who he says he is, the _least_ I'm going to do is put an end to his moving in on Gill before she gets too fond of him."

His phone beeped imperatively. Text. He laughed, and the two of them huddled together, looking as if they were reading something funny.

_Won't send this to Tim for 10 mins. _Good. Abby was as aware as them of the need _not_ to look as if they were doing their jobs. _Gibbs ran plate of Lexus outside Cooper res. Leased to Jonas Almond. Print belongs Gerard Woolley, aka Guy Brinkman aka Paul Birch aka Jonas Almond. Guy's a con, convictions 4 4gery imp in deaths 2 wealthy women, 0 proven, me search further. Gibbs on way back more prints. Tony be careful. Tell Tim+Ziva be careful._

"Claire told me her mother has money because of the Colonel's insurance. I think she's not in immediate danger; he's still working out the best way to access the money. That was what he was doing poking about in the cabinet. But we've enough to get him." There was a grim satisfaction in his tone. "A confession would make things easier though."

"There are three of us to one of him," Ziva said dangerously. Tony squeezed her shoulder.

"And six civilians to protect. Don't go ninja on me, sweetcheeks – not unless it becomes necessary."

"I will not, Tony," she said, looking at his hand where it still lay on her shoulder, "Although I should like to." He thought the look meant she didn't like the hand, and took it away. All his injuries ached again. He pushed it all aside and concentrated on the job.

"Probably best not to take him here," he said thoughtfully. "If he senses something he could disappear into the woods."

"Jack said that the trail comes out onto open ground before we reach the waterfall. There is a steep slope up on the one side, and a steep drop on the other. That would probably be as good a place as any, there would be no escape except along the trail."

Tony nodded. Up ahead, the others had stopped and were waiting for them. "Come on, you guys," Josh called. "You can dawdle together on the way back!"

They tried to look innocent, to fit with what Josh was implying. "We were only looking at Abby's photographs," Ziva said indignantly. "Tim, she is sending them to you as well. And that I hope will be the absolute last of the Bronowski case."

"What was the Bronowski case?" Josh asked curiously.

"It involved dumpster diving… you do not want to know what was in that dumpster."

Up ahead, Tim squeezed Mari's hand… recalling the picture that had been sent to her. She squeezed back, and reminded him, "I will never be afraid again, remember?" At that moment, Tim's phone beeped. He and Mari stood close and smiled and laughed… as the awful message reached them too. Tim, still smiling, called cheerfully back to his SFA, "D'you want me to do anything? Or just wait?"

"It'll keep," Tony said idly, and added softly to Ziva, "We let everyone enjoy looking at the waterfall. Get relaxed. We move in on Mr. Woolley. We don't assume he's unarmed, so we have to separate him from the others."

"We may not be able to communicate verbally," Ziva said. Tony was about to tell her that they could get by very well without words, but remembered her glance at his hand on her shoulder, and decided to keep quiet, so he was surprised at her next words.

"Fortunately," she said softly, "You and I know each other well enough not to need words." Mixed messages… He couldn't process that at all…

They came suddenly out of the trees, to where the trail was cut into the side of a steep slope. A few hundred yards ahead, in the deepest part of the curve Jack had spoken of, they could see the spray of the waterfall, the sun making a rainbow in it. The two youngest couples whooped with delight and ran on ahead. Tony jogged carefully up to Tim, calling, "McGee, you still got the map?"

"Sure," Tim said. "Didn't Ducky say you weren't to even jog yet?"

"You gonna tell him?"

"Not me, Tony."

He held it out, and Tony said very quietly as he shook it out, "You saw, then."

"Oh, yeah. Plan?"

"We'll try to separate Gill from Woolley. And the others. Then we play it by ear. I know, not much of a plan."

Tim flicked his eyes over Tony's shoulder to let him know the others were approaching. "We can go a bit further if you're up to it," he said more loudly. "And don't call me mother again, either. The trail ends at a lookout point." He showed Tony on the map, and whispered "Armed?"

"Dunno. Be prepared. S'pose I could do with a breather," he added grudgingly in a louder voice.

They let Gill and Woolley overtake them as they argued over the map; Ziva tutted at them as she too went past.

"There's something you need to know," Mari said after a few moments. "That awful man's been on Claire's back ever since we set out. Nothing but criticism. She doesn't want to upset her mother, but she's ready to blow. I think Gill seems to have more sympathy for her since Josh's remark, but whatever, there's a lot of friction going on."

Tony sighed and nodded. They were the last three to arrive at the waterfall.

If you stood on the bridge for long you got soaked by the spray, so the youngsters all looked damp. Woolley looked disparagingly at the teenagers. "What a good job the day's warm, Gilly. They might have a chance of drying out before they get back to the cars and make the seats wet."

Gill shook her head. "It's only water, she said soothingly." Tony tried to conceal how tense he felt; even if he hadn't known what he knew, he'd have had the feeling that the day was about to explode. He began to think of how long it would take to get to his ankle holster…

Woolley, of course, was the one who triggered the eruption. Gill remarked, in an effort to defuse the situation, that the waterfall was very pretty, did anyone want a photo taken? The bogus doctor said loftily, "It's very nice, Gilly, but some time I'll take you to see Niagara. Now that's a real waterfall."

Suddenly, he found Claire planted in front of him. "Mum's been there," she snapped. "Twice. Once on holiday with Dad when they were not long married. Then Dad took all of us before his first tour in Iraq. We know what a real waterfall looks like. We saw it with our _Dad._ Mom… you can't replace Dad with _him_! He's only after your money!

"Claire… that's not –"

"Not true? I saw him! He was in the study, looking through the cabinet!"

"Gilly… she's just being a silly girl…"

"No…" Gillian said calmly. "I was going to say it wasn't true that I wanted to replace your Dad, Claire. Nobody could ever replace him. I thought it was very nice to have a man's company again, but nobody could ever be like Phil. What do you mean about the cabinet?"

Ziva was standing behind Anne-Marie, slowly drawing her Sig. Anni had no idea, however, and as she made a move towards Claire, Woolley had a clear view of what Ziva was doing. It was inevitable that it was Claire he took his spite out on. His arm snaked out and grabbed the girl round the neck, and he dragged her in front of him as a shield. The gun he pulled from his pocket was tiny, Tony thought it was a Bersa; no matter, at close range, pressed against the teenager's neck, it would be effective enough.

"Drop your gun, Agent David… or she dies. Both of you… " he jerked his head at the male agents, "you drop yours too."

Tim made a great show of putting his down; Tony said calmly, "I'm on sick leave. I'm not carrying." He knew he had no hope of getting to his Glock, but if he revealed its location, the man might surmise that the other two agents carried back up guns. He'd have been right.

"Now, how d'you think you're going to get out of this, Mr. Woolley?" The effect on the con man was all he could have hoped for. His jaw fell open but no sound came out. Tony was sure he could have found a movie scene if he'd had the time to think about it. "Or is it Brinkman? Or Birch? Or Almond? Whatever… the only chance you have of getting off this mountain alive is if you give up now."

"I'll kill her!"

"The minute you so much as scratch her, you're dead. That's dead as in final."

Claire's eyes were wide, but she stayed calm, and didn't move.

"It's true… " Josh's voice spoke from behind Tony, and he stepped forward. "You harm my sister and I'll kill you."

Tim stepped forward, and so did Jack. "Drop the gun and you've got a chance," Tony said, tensing himself; he had a feeling it wouldn't be that simple. It wasn't. The bogus doctor swore, hurled Claire away from him as hard as he could, and took off running down the trail. Tony knew he wasn't in any fit state to chase him, but he knew who would.

He wasn't around to watch how efficiently his ninja took the man down, however, because he was too busy watching Claire flailing on the edge of the slope, before she went over with a scream. She wasn't the only one who screamed as everyone rushed to the edge.

Young Jack yelled and dived after her, before he realised just how steep the slope was, and like Claire he slithered, rolled and bounced, until he had the sense to spread his arms and legs wide to break his fall, and he grabbed fistfuls of scrubby brushwood to hang onto. Claire had done the same, but was a good six feet further down. She wasn't good with heights, and her eyes were closed in terror… below them was nothing but a long, long tumble to the foot of the mountain.

Tony was over the edge on his stomach in an instant, dropping his sling on the path and inching his way down; a moment or two later, Tim followed.

**AN: Sorry, I've done it again… it's 3am, and I honestly thought I'd get it done in one chapter, tonight… so true to form, if I've got to stop and start again, I'll stop on a cliffie. Mea culpa, mea maxima culpa…**


	5. Chapter 5

A Walk in the Blue Ridge Mountains

by scousemuz1k

Chapter 5

Everyone stood momentarily frozen. Gill dropped to her knees on the edge of the trail, white as a sheet, but she didn't scream or cry.

"Mom! Claire called frantically, her eyes screwed tight shut. Her mother held herself together, at least on the outside; she was utterly steady, a far cry from the confused, broken woman of only a few weeks ago.

"Stay calm, sweetheart." She had to raise her voice above the tumbling of the water. "And stay still. Tony's on his way down to you. Can you hold still until he gets there?"

"Yes, Mom." Claire's voice was a whisper, Gill only saw her lips move, but her calmness had got through to her daughter.

Josh wondered if he should follow the two agents, but thought that he was the only male left on the flat, and he'd better stay there; he doubted that any of the girls would have the strength to haul a person up when the time came. He lay down on the trail, his whole upper body over the edge and leaning downwards, and Anni sat on his legs to anchor him.

The four people on the slope were getting very wet from the waterfall, and were alarmingly close to the edge of the gully where the water tumbled away. Tony eased his way past Jack. "You OK for a minute, man?"

"Yeah. Get Claire."

"Will do. McGee's coming down for you, right?"

"I can climb…"

Tony nodded approvingly. Crazy… they were both stretched out on their stomachs on a death slide making conversation; at least they were pointing the right way. "Sure you can. But a bit of help never hurt. Wait for McGee, huh?" He edged his way on down.

He had no illusions as to how much trouble they were in. The scrubby vegetation was wet from the spray, and therefore hard to hold onto, and might pull out by the roots anyway. The ground was at an impossible angle, Claire was scared stiff, they had no ropes, and oh yes… he wasn't fit to be doing this. He reached the teenager's outstretched arm; she was lying precariously across the slope, in an ideal position to simply start rolling. He eased himself under her shoulder.

"Hi, Princess… d'you come here often, or did you just drop in?"

"Tony…"

"That's me. Listen, Coopletina, I need you to do something for me. You don't need to open your eyes… but I want you to ease your shoulder away from me, and up the slope, OK?" 

"I'll fall if I let go…"

"Well, no, you won't… cuz I'll hold on to you while you move a bit and get hold of a fresh chunk of bush, OK?" He put his arm across her waist. "Go on, try it. Aim for pointing up the hill, can you do that? Aim towards your Mom's voice."

He was very relieved to feel her trying to do as he asked. His ribs didn't like being leaned on, he was short of breath and didn't want Claire to hear it, and there was no way he was going to tell her what his left arm thought of keeping a grip on her. Twenty long, long feet above them, he could hear Gill calling encouragement, and if Claire could concentrate on what was up ahead instead of what was behind her, they'd be fine. Probably… he had to trust Tim to help Jack first, because the boy was directly above them. He didn't fancy trying to get her to go around him.

Mari recalled what she'd said to Tim not fifteen minutes ago, and she _was _afraid. "But I won't act it," she said to herself in a quiet, fierce voice. She snatched up Tony's sling, and her own expensive North Face jacket. Her eyes were on Tim, now more than ten feet down the slope, his feet level with Jack's head, and she was going to help her man one way or another. She had no intention of being a widow before she was even a wife.

Ziva had dragged Woolley over to the edge of the trail, his hands cuffed behind him, and was making him watch the drama playing out below. For a long moment her eyes lingered on Tony's face, but he was looking at Claire. "Keep still," she told her prisoner expressionlessly. "If any one of them falls, you follow."

Mari asked, "Do you have a knife?" and enjoyed how Woolley's eyes widened in even more fright. Without question, Ziva produced a four inch blade from somewhere, and Mari began to slice her jacket, one cut up from the hem, the next down from the collar, so it opened up like a Christmas streamer.

"Take mine too," Gill said, and in a few minutes the remains of the two coats were twisted together, with Tony's sling tied to the end. It was an awkward, lumpy makeshift rope, but it was effective, and Josh wrapped one end round his arm. He shook the length of it down towards Tim. It was just about long enough, and the agent was able to grab it and hang on, even although it was rapidly becoming as wet as everything else.

Tim actually grinned up at Mari briefly, feeling proud of her resourcefulness. Then he concentrated on what he had to do, well aware that he didn't just have Jack to consider; he didn't know how long Tony would be able to hold Claire. His eyes met Josh's for a moment, and he knew from the pain he saw there that the strain on Josh was as bad as what he was feeling himself.

"Jack," he called down, "You OK?"

"Sure." The youngster's voice was tight with the identical strain, but he was holding up.

"I can't come any further down without letting go of the rope… can you grab my leg yet?"

"Not quite…"

"Be patient. As soon as you can, you can start using me to climb up…I'll grab you soon as I can… come on… that's good… don't make any sudden moves…" He bit his lip and tried to suppress a hiss of pain as Jack grasped his ankle, which put more weight on his arm. He heard Josh's yelp too, above the noise of the cascading water. Mari came alongside Josh and gripped the rope with him.

Below them all, Tony watched, hanging onto a fistful of brush with his good hand, and keeping Claire sandwiched between his bad arm and his side. As Jack inched his way up, Tony kept urging the young girl on by even smaller degrees. He kept up a stream of cheerful nonsense as they went, feeling more reassured the closer she got to pointing straight up the slope. When she was no longer in a position to see down the hill, he'd get her to open her eyes.

Jack was alongside Tim now, with the agent helping to push him on with his free hand. As he got near enough to the rope, Tim passed it across to him, and was glad that the waterfall covered his sigh of relief. Gill and Anni took over from Josh to help pull, and only a few moments later the last scramble was done. Jack was back on the trail… only three more to go. The rope was dropped down to Tim again, but he lay where he was and rested his arms for a while. He didn't much want to turn his head and look down the hill, his dislike of heights was well known, but he needed to know where Claire and Tony were, and what sort of state the SFA was in.

In a way, he wished he'd never looked; DiNozzo's face was screwed up in agony, and Tim was pretty sure that not all the moisture on his forehead was spray. The last sideways manoeuvre to support Claire had made him slither onto a rock concealed in the bracken. It was grinding into his ribs, and there was no getting away from it without moving away from Claire, which wasn't an option. He said, "Hold still just a second, Princess…" and pushed his hand underneath his body. "Can you go sideways again?"

Claire felt out to her left, but couldn't find anything to hold onto.

"No!" she squeaked, on the verge of panic again.

"OK… just give me a minute to think…" with his hand protecting him from the lump of stone, the pain was easing, but he needed that hand to grip with. He sensed movement above him, looked up, and yelled. "No, McGee! No! It wouldn't help! Stay where you are!" He gestured furiously with his free hand, which of course meant that the stone ground into his ribs again. Tim stopped his intended climb down; Tony was right…Going further down the slope was counter-productive – but he hated to see his friend in that state. Tony pushed his face into the bracken and groaned; and then a soft hand touched his temple.

"Tony?" Claire said tentatively. "Tony, I can do it. I'll go sideways." He lifted his head; her eyes were open. Hanging off the side of a mountain, he smiled at her in delight. Very slowly, she turned her head the other way, spotted a good lump of brush, and grasped it. She pulled herself towards it, and looked back at him. "There," she said proudly.

Tony slithered after her with a sigh of relief. "You're a star," he said, and blew her a kiss.

After that things got better; the further to the left they inched themselves, the drier the bracken was, and the easier to hold. Above them, Tim grasped the rope again, and eased across with them. Claire became more confident, and Tony eased himself behind her. She felt braver about pushing a leg up the slope if she could feel Tony's weight against the other ankle; he wouldn't let her slip.

For his part, using the weight of his whole upper body to anchor her was much preferable to hanging on with his left arm. He hadn't thought for quite a while about the wound that the mercenary Veldt had inflicted; until today, that was. What were the odds of having two bullet wounds on the same side… concentrate, DiNozzo. The pain's easing… just concentrate.

Above him, Tim tensed. Claire got a grip on his ankle, and although there were two people on the top end of the rope, there was still only him hanging off the bottom. She wasn't as heavy or solid as Jack, but even so, the agent clenched his teeth, and just about every muscle in his body. "Go on," he heard Tony say firmly. "Tim's hand is only a foot from yours now…" and as he strained downwards and felt her small one placed into his, and heard Gill's relieved cry from above them, the pain thrumming along his other arm didn't seem to matter any more.

"I've got her, Tony."

"I know. I can still help take her weight a bit…"

"Sure…" It was easier to agree than to argue the point, but as Tim helped Claire nearer to the rope, he made sure that he kept lifting her. One more glance down at Tony had told him that if _he _felt wet, nervous and exhausted, the man further down the slope felt _worse_. He let go of the rope, looped the sling that formed the bottom end of it round Claire's elbow, and guided her other hand to grip the strap alongside it. He sighed with relief again, as the weight was off his arm, and as his relinquished burden was hauled upwards to the path with reassuring speed.

The rope came down again at once. Tony looked up at him. "Go on."

"You _are _kidding me," Tim said wearily.

"You've just hung on to someone, one handed, twice. And after that you're going to hold on to _me_?"

"I'm waiting. Will you quit talking and come up here?"

Tony got the message, smiled wryly and climbed. Tim let him pass, guided the rope to his hand, and followed him up the last ten feet. Willing hands reached for them both, and they collapsed onto the worn path gasping and panting. They looked at each other and began to giggle, until Ziva's voice cut into their laughter. She wasn't speaking to them, but her voice chilled them.

"Well, Mr. Woolley, it seems you get to live." Tony pushed himself up on one elbow – his good one – with a frown. Anni explained. "She told him she'd throw him off the mountain if any of you fell."

"Oh." Both agents spoke together, and it was all they could think of to say.

Gillian, however, was _not_ lost for words. As Ziva hauled Woolley to his feet, she walked over to him, said "Bastard," very sweetly, and let off a right hook that put him on the ground again. Tony smiled inside; _that _was how the Gill he knew dealt with unpleasant things.

"Nice one, Mrs. Cooper."

The journey back down the trail was not so enjoyable as the outward bound walk, for all that it was downhill. Claire, in t-shirt and shorts, dried out the fastest, so she wasn't uncomfortable, but the scare had made her subdued. Jack kept apologising; he was embarrassed that his efforts to save Claire had only resulted in his having to be rescued himself. Gill, with one arm around her daughter, hauled the young man in with the other one.

"It was one of the bravest things I ever saw," she told him. "You didn't think of yourself –" and she threw a malevolent glance at Woolley as he shambled down the trail with Ziva's gun in his back. "Some people don't think of anyone _but_ themselves… I know which I prefer, Jack."

Ziva herself concentrated utterly on her prisoner. She made him walk ahead of the whole group, so that if he misguidedly took off, she would have a clear run to bring him down again. She was glad to be at the front; she had asked Tony once how he was, and he hadn't brushed her off with a 'fine', simply saying that he'd be good when he had some dry clothes, and Gibbs was going to kill him.

Then he'd added thoughtfully, "You know, it's not so bad after all that our peaceful day together got hijacked… I reckon _he_'s going to turn out to be a right bad'n, and we've saved Gill from him, and maybe future victims… nice work, David."

Now as she walked, she was thinking '_our peaceful day together…_' That was what he'd wanted; peace, and her company… and healing… he needed that from her, as she needed it from him, but she could not, ever open her heart and soul to give or receive it. "And if you do not, sooner or later, you will be throwing away the one thing that could make life truly worth living, with someone who knows you were ready to die. You are a fool, and you will go on being one."

She was glad he was not walking alongside her; sometimes she thought he could read her mind, and right now it did not make good reading. She concentrated on her escort duty.

Tim was tired and wet, still shaky from the experience, and thankful that his walking boots had kept his feet dry. He was happy, in a strange way, for all that; he was bursting with pride at the way Marianne had handled the situation, and was thinking that maybe he ought to get another ring on her finger sooner than he'd planned. Tony as best man? He glanced back, and bit his lip.

Tony was walking with Josh and Anni, and they were lagging behind. The SFA stumbled from time to time, and although he smiled and chatted to his young friends, the act was getting harder to sustain. He'd forced himself to stop watching Ziva's back, far ahead, there was nothing to be gained from it. He felt awful, and Gibbs was gong to be mad as all hell, but he didn't see what else he could have done. Ziva or Tim had to deal with Woolley, which left two to go down the slope, and one of them was him.

Back in the trees, it wasn't as warm, even though the day was still beautiful, and he shivered. Josh said, "Here," pulled his coat out of his pack and put it round his shoulders, and that helped, he grinned and trudged on. He swore he'd never come to these mountains again, he'd never even wish to as long as he lived. Which wasn't going to be long when Gibbs found out what he'd done… Karma was kicking him; why was it that everything good that he tried to do lately just _went wrong_?

_Get a grip. You don't like self-pity._ He felt his arms being reached for, and realised that his two young friends were pulling them over their shoulders to support him. Sheez… did he look _that _bad? Through the trees ahead, he saw a welcome sight, the unmistakable flashing of a bank of blue lights. One of the team had had the forethought to call ahead for LEO back-up. With Gill being an intended victim, he was hoping they'd get the case themselves, but he had no idea how jurisdiction would pan out, and right now he felt too foggy to think about it.

A voice beside him said, "I'll take him, Josh."

Gibbs? "Boss… you must have driven like… like…"

"Well, yeah, DiNozzo… ya think I should have stayed in DC? What the hell happened?"

"Boss…"

"Never mind, Josh'll tell me." He felt his arm pulled over Gibbs' shoulder – he was quite a bit taller than Josh – and the Marine's arm went round his waist. He shut up, not having the energy to do anything else, and waited for Josh to tell the tale, and the sword of Damocles to drop on him. He was aware of the voices, but not really hearing the words, and a short – at least he thought so – time later, he felt himself being pushed down into a seat. From the smell he knew it was Gibbs' yellow Challenger. He felt his wet t-shirt being pulled over his head, and made the effort to open his eyes.

Gibbs had dropped the ruined shirt on the floor, and was holding out Tony's own coat, retrieved from Gill's car. When it became obvious that his SFA wasn't managing any sort of speed just now, he dressed him himself, threading the sleeve gently over the injured arm first.

"DiNozzo… Tony!"

"Yeah… sorry, Boss…"

"I've got some sweat pants in the trunk. But I'd damned if I'm changing _them_ for you. Clear?"

"Clear, Boss." He felt a bit better with the warmth of the coat, and made the effort. Of course, Ziva would take the moment when he was dropping his wet cords to come over. She looked at him, her face unreadable. He didn't know what she saw in his face, but something made her look away again.

"Gibbs," she said efficiently, "Woolley is being taken to Richmond to be held until jurisdiction is decided. The Director has been in touch with the police departments that investigated the previous incidents. Data will be exchanged, and Richmond have offered to collate it. I am going back with Gill to collect my car; I will come in tomorrow to make my statement, and work on the case if you require it."

Gibbs nodded, and watched her hurry away. He turned back to his SFA, who'd managed to get the sweats on and slumped back into the car seat. He swung his legs in, and said "Wait, OK?"

Tony waited, and thought. The Boss's voice had been calm enough… maybe he wasn't going to get chewed out? _DiNozzo, you are _not _twelve years old, outside the head's office. Get a grip._ He wondered what he'd done to upset Ziva, but knew she wasn't likely to tell him. _You kill me, David…_

Gibbs got in the driver's side, and Tony opened his eyes again. The Boss had his usual coffee and a box of do'nuts, and handed him a hot chocolate. "Eat. Drink." For a few minutes there was silence, while they let the food and hot drinks work their magic, then Gibbs said softly, "Not catching the breaks just now, are you?"

Tony laughed sadly. "Not lately, Boss. You _do_ know there was nothing else I could have done?"

"Sure. And you did get the bad guy. But you didn't get what you wanted."

"No, Boss… " He brightened. "Can always count on you to turn up, though, right?"

"Right." He started the engine. "You can give me your statement in the morning before I go in to work. Then you go back to sleep and I don't want to find you've moved when I get back." He reached over and fastened Tony in like a child.

"Think we ought to call your guest room Tony's room, Boss?" the SFA asked drowsily.

"Ya want one of those cute little ceramic tiles on the door with your name on?"

"Can I have one with a picture of a puppy?" His voice tailed off sleepily.

Gibbs didn't answer. _Hell, I already got one, DiNozzo…_

The End

**AN: There. Thanks, everyone who's stuck with me!**


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